


Is it a cold? (Or are you just hot?)

by orphan_account



Category: Dota 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl promptly congratulated Rubick for his undoubtedly stellar skills of deduction and very clearly, as to not be misunderstood, told him to leave.</p><p>Also known as that one story in which Invoker has a cold and Rubick tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is it a cold? (Or are you just hot?)

**Author's Note:**

> Anti-Mage is referred to in this story as 'Magina' which is his name in DotA.
> 
> Invoker is referred to in this story as 'Carl,' his ' _true name of power.'_

For some inexplicable- and most likely inane- reason, Carl finds it completely impossible to breathe through his nose like a normal person. Carl knows he isn't normal, he is not even human, but at least when it came to _breathing_ he had thought himself to be rather _normal_. At least, he _used_ to. Now he wasn't so sure because he was wiping his dripping nose like a child and Rubick- the insufferable, self-proclaimed Grand Magus- was just staring at him in open fascination. Carl didn't like being looked at as if he were a very interesting puzzle waiting to be put apart and placed back together.

"It is called a cold," Magina told him with all the indifference he could manage to muster without giving away how thoroughly and cruelly amused he was. Then he added, his mouth definitely not quirking into a smirk, "Have you  no paltry magic to cure something so trifling?"

If Magina woke up with sores and ticks in his feet the morning after, well, it only served him right and had absolutely nothing to do with any lamely planned revenge.

This was the fifth day Carl had to suffer through with this infernal _cold._ He did not want to be dramatic and if he had told Rubick he was going to die at some point in the early morning, that was a lie and Rubick was fabricating stories because- well. Just. _Because._

It did not help that by some sheer force of very, very bad luck Rubick was now trying to (Zeus throw a bolt of lightning at him now) _help_. As if it were that simple. Carl would have laughed if he weren't so busy keeping himself from accidentally burning the entire forest down as Rubick tried to make Carl's migraine (Rubick's fault in its entirety) go away. When Carl had regained control of himself, he nonchalantly burned a good portion of Rubick's robes and called it a day.

All was good, until it wasn't and the next day the cold was infinitely worse. Carl did not even leave his cot nor did he listen to Rubick- of all people- asking him to _find it in his best interest to consume something nourishing before he made it worse._ Also, _I find this all quite fascinating. Please tell me more._

Surely there was an unseen force working against him. Why else would a magus with absolutely no ability to remember more than two spells decide that he would make an excellent doctor. A _magical_ doctor. Suddenly letting Magina attack Rubick despite the risk of injury to everyone involved sounded like a plausible and sensible course of action.

"Oh, _please_ , Carl, if you would stop squirming for a second? Right, thank you."

Carl let his body slump back on his cot in defeat. Rubick was tittering with excitement as he picked up a glowing rod that Carl eyed suspiciously. Rubick inclined his head just so and Carl's blood went cold and he finally found it in him to scramble to his feet and put as much distance as he- and now he was floating. _Of course he was._

 Rubick slowly put him down and instantly Carl flickered out of sight. A cold chill wrapped itself around the area and Rubick tried not to roll his eyes as he watched the frosted footprints walk, ever so sluggishly, away from him. Something _curious_ must be going on within Carl's head if he was so openly abject to receiving help. One would think Rubick was trying to murder Carl with the way the man was acting.

Which is why Rubick had a contingency plan.

And by the looks of it, Carl had not been expecting a full body tackle from who he once considered to be one of the most respectable men the Radiant had.

"Juggernaut!" Carl hissed.

"Off, off, off, off!" Rubick sang. In his impatience (or eagerness) to get to Carl, Juggernaut was flung- ever so gently- upward by Rubick's telekinesis spell. A spell that was quickly rising to the top of Carl's most hated spells list. He did not even know he had a list until that very moment.

And that was pretty much what made up Carl's entire day. He had not even realized he had fallen asleep some time later until Yurnero-  _the_ Juggernaut- came to rouse him from sleep and also apologize in that way of his that was clearly not actual apologizing but involved gratuitous amounts of bowing anyway.

Shaking _the_ Juggernaut was not as simple as Carl had wanted it to be and it mostly involved a lot of pointing at things that weren't actually there. But eventually, Carl did give Yurnero the slip at some point between a rock that looked like a portly man's backside and a tree with a beard, _and, oh, hello Treant_.

He was very much prepared to finally have time to himself when Rubick cornered him and very keenly and succinctly said, "Ah, your cold is yet to recede."

Carl promptly congratulated Rubick for his undoubtedly stellar skills of deduction and very clearly, as to not be misunderstood, told him to leave.

Rubick didn't leave.

And more infuriatingly, he sat down and patted the ground next to him with a surprisingly light hand.

Carl heaved an exaggerated sigh but sat down nonetheless.

Rubick didn't say anything which surprised Carl more than he would care to admit.

After an hour or so of silence only broken by Carl's pathetic sniffling, Rubick stood up and left. This baffled Carl to no end and he just sat there and stared dumbly at the spot Rubick had occupied not so long ago.

Then it happened.

Carl was just about to go to bed later that day, already convinced the cold was never going to leave, when Rubick, coming out of nowhere, slapped a hand over Carl's face. Carl had no choice but to make an aborted move to punch Rubick in the face. The mask was solid and that knowledge was what gave Carl pause enough to punch Rubick in the gut instead. Or he would have but Rubick was suddenly too far _down_ and Carl was too far _up._

This telekinesis thing had to stop.

"Your cold is gone."

At this, Carl could only inhale sharply and promptly choke on it. On air. He was pathetic.

"Let me down, would you?" Carl asked, suddenly feeling less angry with the world and a lot more like he could hug Rubick despite Rubick's grave dislike for too much physical _anything._ Except there were no hugs to be had and all Rubick earned for his efforts was a finely arched eyebrow and a view of Carl's retreating back.

Rubick stared and stared some more until Carl finally turned on his heel to march right back to Rubick, then he said plainly, "This is my spot. _You_ leave."

With the patience honed from living countless years interacting with all sorts of questionable characters with equally questionable tastes, Rubick replied, "I would really rather not."

Carl had nothing to say to that so he settled for staring at the way Rubick was a constant ball of motion and kinetic energy. A ball of motion and kinetic energy that was steadily getting closer and closer. "I believe you meant to thank me?" It was made to sound like a question, but Carl knew better than to miss the proud tone behind it.

"Yes, of course," he replied tersely, then, with absolutely no inflection whatsoever, "I am grateful."

Rubick then did something Carl would never have thought the man was capable of doing. He reached out and placed a hand tentatively on Carl's shoulder as if he were afraid that Carl would lash out in anger. Carl didn't blame him, he had, after all, wanted to. "My pleasure," Rubick said and that was it.

Except it really wasn't but Carl didn't need to know that yet.

 


End file.
